Without Them
by Unfocused and Confused
Summary: How would Araluen be without Will and Horace, "who may be the future of the country," as Halt put it. Minor-ish Whumpage so far.
1. Morgarath

**I haven't updated in a while.. I feel.. uninspired. Every one of my stories is up for adoption (picture a box of kitt- no, wait, tigers lying by the side of the road). I don't care what anyone does with them. ****Take the ideas, take the existing chapters, leave the stories up for adoption later, whatever. This** will probably be my last story on the site. I may review stories occasionally, but, yeah... So, without further ado, here we are.

**All unadopted stories will be deleted within two weeks.**

**Sorry everyone who's story reading/beta stuff were interrupted by this. I just don't do this stuff as often anymore.**

* * *

MORGARATH RECLINED ON HIS THRONE.

Life was good. He had a wife, some kids... and he ruled the countries that once were Araluen, Celtica, and Picta. Oh, he was still working with Hibernia, but Clonmel was the sole survivor.

The people revered him as they should, as a god. Yes, indeed. The god-king of the Morgaria, who destroyed his enemies with an iron fist. When Duncan interrupted his duel with Halt, he knew the kingdom would fall, there, and then.

_"Morgarath!" the King shouted, "I won't let you murder one of my closest friends. I challenge you to a duel!"_

_Morgarath grinned cruelly. "I get to set the terms."_

_Duncan blindly yelled, "Deal!"_

_The Lord of the Mountains of Rain and Night nodded, then said, "No champions," the assembled Araluens gasped, "and the victor gets to live without getting attacked."_

_The battle was a short cruel one. Where Duncan fought honorably, Morgarath played dirty. The battlehorse Duncan sat upon was the first to go. Next, were his legs, and finally, his head._

Now, as time flew by, he knew his sons would continue his conquest, when he decayed. Or would he? His group of "patrol men" reported a so called "miracle worker" by Norgate.

He may as well live forever, as ruler of the world. Just as his mind found the entrance to the realm of sleep, and was beginning to enter it, the doors flew open.

"Your Hig-"

Morgarath held up a hand. "Address me properly."

Two people one male, in the other female, in her twenties, had entered. The man was clad in a black satin doublet, with an upturned collar, while the woman was wearing an elegant white dress. The man, whom I shall reveal as Foldar, shoved the woman onto her knees, then went on his knees.

"Oh Great, Powerful, and Almighty King, we have her," Foldar said.

Morgarath yawned, "Yes, yes, bring her forth." This was too much. The man who was once official and vain was now calling him great, powerful, and almighty. Coupled with the joy of treating a prisoner with contempt, it was nearly unrestrainable. Nearly, but still.

At the spoken word, the woman was brought back up on her feet, and shoved toward the dark lord.

Morgarath picked up a scroll from the maple wood table used as a desk, read it, then sat it down. "This woman has been caught, SPYING," at the last word, he jumped at her, "But you don't look Hibernian, do you?" He lifted her face towards him. "Your name."

She glared at him with loosely restrained rage, "Alyss Mainwaring."

Foldar slapped her across the face. "More," he snarled.

She paid no attention to him, and stared cooly at Morgarath.

The dark lord sighed, "Do you want the torture chambers, or not?"

Her gaze locked onto his eyes, and seemed to stare into his soul. He knew he had to get her away, as soon as possible.

He clapped his hands. "We seem to have ourselves a mute. Standard procedure. Take off body parts until she regains her voice."

A week later, she was back.

* * *

She, in fact, was quite well off. Only one ear was off of her head. No other body parts were missing.

"What is this? I tell you to lop off her fingers and such until she talks, one week later, she's back with only one ear missing?" Morgarath roared at Foldar.

Foldar held up his hands, and stammered, "I-It was the torturer! He cut off parts of the ear!"

Morgarath stared at him. "Have him brought up to me once I'm finished with her." He then turned to the captive. "So, where are you from?"

She spit on him, then said, "Araluen."

"Where?"

"I was born in what was once called Araluen."

Morgarath smiled. "I'll have your parents killed."

She sarcastically smiled back, "If you can kill them again, that would be amazing, wouldn't it?"

The ruler of Morgia immediately made a, "tactical retreat," as you can call it. "Alright, who do you work for?"

She shrugged, "Who do I work for?"

Morgarath's arm shot out, his hand reaching around her neck, "Answer me!"

Her arms flailed, and he dropped his hand. She gasped, and laid down for a moment, until whispering, "Couriers."

Morgarath nodded. "Foldar, get another guard to get the torturer. As for her," he jerked his thumb toward Alyss, who laid on the floor, "Kill her."


	2. Gilan

So, I got four PMs/reviews about leaving in one night after author's notes. Ah well. At least I'll stay for a while.

* * *

Gilan was trying hard to stay focused.

King Duncan had just died yesterday. Morgarath was about to be covered in as much arrows as a chicken is covered in feathers, when, of course, a Wargal passed by in front of him, and took all the shots. Naturally, the warlord fled, and was flanked by his body guards.

As the King ly on the ground, surrounded by his closest friends and advisors, he said farewell. No amount of sugarcoating would stop him from knowing he was dying.

_Duncan coughed up blood from the injury to his lungs. "Halt,"_

_"Your High-"_

_"None of that. It's just Duncan. Let me leave as myself, Arald." The king shuddered._

_"Duncan, Halt is still recovering."_

_Duncan coughed more, and wretched on the ground. "Alright. Can you bring him out here, or at least, me to him?"_

_Soon, Halt shambled out of the tent and over to Duncan. "Y-y-your High-"_

_"No, Halt. Just Duncan now, okay?"_

_Halt's nodded, as they both trembled from their wounds._

_"I want to tell you all my final words. You're all crucial to my life. I'd probably not be here if it were not for you. You are Araluen, my friends. Protect her." With those words, the King died._

The Araluen forces, demoralized, took a severe number of injuries. Three quarters were wiped out, and fifteen of the Rangers died. The horses were scared off by the Kalkara, who had decimated any, and all who stood in their way.

But Halt was still alive.

They would find a way out of this, somehow.

After all, if Halt was there, anything was possible.

* * *

**Two years after Duncan's death**

Araluen ceased to exist. Its army was defeated in a final defense, at Castle Araluen. Five more Rangers died at the battle. Berrigan, Harrison, Alun, Bartell, and Meralon. Not that the last one was extremely significant, though.

They now headed for Clonmel, a country of Hibernia, where Halt apparently had relatives.

Of course, Halt retched, and threw up, and pretty much made the trip enjoyable for every one else.

_BLEGH! Halt threw up some more over the railing. "Halt, if you keep doing that, the ocean will only be your puke!" Gilan shouted._

_"Halt, where exactly is all the puke coming from? It seems it would be more than enough in food form to feed all of us on the boat for about a month."_

_People joined in the taunting, until, of course, a knife flew by._

_"That'll teach you," Halt said smugly._

_Of course, after that, he puked again._

At the docks, they unloaded their bags, while getting odd looks for the massive longbows carries by the remaining Rangers.

"Halt!" A woman, who was dressed in a royal fashion, called out, then rode toward them, while escorted by a party of six guards.

Gilan elbowed Halt. "I didn't know your relatives were rich. With all their money, I think we could get you a hair cut." The friendly jibe was promptly murdered and dumped into a river with a hostile glare.

As Halt started to make a snappy remark, the woman reached them. "Halt, I got your letter, are you alright?" she asked, grabbing his face, and inspecting it for cuts, bruises, and other assorted injuries.

Halt looked, and smiled. A smile, the likes of which had never been witnessed by most Araluens. "Caitlyn, I'm fine. We just need a place to stay for a while. By the way, before I forget, how's Sean?"

Caitlyn laughed, "Sean's been fine. He's being considered for a high government position. I just hope he remembers to visit his mother from time to time."

Gilan looked at her, "So, about a place to stay?"

Caitlyn looked at them all. A party of about a hundred Araluens. "We'll figure something out."

The road to Dun Kilty was tiring. There simply wasn't enough horses for them all, so the Araluens cycled with what they had.

As they passed by, many visitors took note at the King's sister, and the large force of armed archers.

"Halt, do you think we're attracting too much attention?" Gilan asked his former mentor.

"It doesn't matter. Hibernians are completely different from Araluens."

Gilan nodded. "That's my point. We can't blend into the crowd if we can't say anything. We'll look to fishy. It's like a cow in a haystack, Halt."

Halt sighed, then replied, "I'll give lessons to sound more Hibernian, okay?"

With a fist in the air, he yelled, "Woohoo!" He then turned to look at Halt, "Don't expect to have enough sleep."

* * *

**Seven Years after Duncan's Death**

Gilan crept across the roof of Castle Morgia, and looked towards the marketplace. A man, presumably a herald, stood on a box and announced, "Attention, Attention! The execution of a Courier will be taking place soon! Get your friends, your family, everyone!" The message was repeated over and over again.

The Couriers were numbered now. In fact, so were the Rangers. The numbers lost were just too much to count, and heartbreaking if you tried. Gilan was the only Ranger in Morgia, as of now. The remaining were fighting on the front lines, Clonmel versus Morgia. The Couriers, on the other hand, were all stationed in Morgia, as spies.

And there could be only one being executed now.

Alyss.

_Gilan cupped Alyss's face. "I just don't like the idea of you going to the heart of Morgia."_

_She looked at him. "I'd rather it be me, than one of my friends."_

_"Then let me go with you!" he demanded, knowing what very well may happen to her._

_"Gilan, you know what Halt would say," she replied, with a certainty._

_He stomped his foot. "I'll make him let me. And if he doesn't, I'll go in my own!"_

_Alyss stared at his eyes, "Okay, fine. I'll wait until morning."_

_Then, they kissed, possibly for the last time of their lives._

_Of course, Gilan still had to go through with Halt._

_"I should go with her, Halt."_

_"Gilan, she's fully capable of handling herself."_

_"Crowley! Tell Halt I should go with Alyss to Morgia."_

_Crowley looked up from his identical desk, "Well, let's see. Odds, pros, cons... I think he should Halt. She's a valuable asset. Plus, I'd rather he go with permission, rather than on his own."_

_Halt sighed, "Fine. Gilan, since I trust both of you, I'll let you go. I also have some more instructions for you. If things, well, don't go so well here, get to a different country, warn the officials, and most important of all, restart the Rangers."_

Of course, now, he needed to save Alyss. Climbing down from the roof, he scoped out potential positions from which to shoot from. His gaze reached places such as the tower of the Castle and the battlements of the stone wall surrounding the city, he decided. Walking briskly, he climbed the stairs of a chapel to the bell tower. Once he reached the top, he saw her.

She didn't seem to be too bad off. Of course, she was led by a rope to the gallows, but not as bad as others he had seen before. Gilan's plan was to shoot the executioner as the noose was being slipped over her head, then fire at anyone with a weapon who approached her. Rudimentary, but it should work.

The first steps of his plan fell into place, but instead of guards rushing towards Alyss, however they were attacked by the citzens. A riot. He saw Alyss look around, then sprint to a gate. He wasn't sure where she was going, but he knew one thing.

She was safe. And that was all that mattered.


End file.
